THE LOST LOVER BY KAREN SWAN – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Karen Swan
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.2 MB
- Price: Free
8 August 1929
Village Bay, St Kilda
Flora swept the hearth, the stone floor cool against her hands and knees as
she tipped the ashes into the bucket. Even from inside the cottage, she was
well aware of the progress the visitors were making up the street. She could
tell from the ripple of excited voices and shy laughter that the villagers were
performing the roles that had become something of a ritual whenever a
tourist ship dropped anchor in the bay – Mad Annie and Ma Peg knitting
socks at a ferocious speed as they sat on their stools; Crabbit Mary stoically
carding the wool with her signature frown; Donald McKinnon and Hamish
Gillies hauling boulders as they made repairs to one of the ancient cleits.
The younger men made a show of strutting about with coils of rope looped
over their shoulders, hands stuffed in their pockets, as if they might leap
down a cliff at any given moment; time and tides permitting, they would
hope to be urged by the visiting captain to give his guests one of their
renowned climbing exhibitions. Only the dogs moved with any
unselfconsciousness, but then, they cared little for the coins that crossed
palms for these small displays of St Kildan life.
It had been a successful summer in that regard, the fine weather and calm
seas bringing in the rich and the curious by the dozen, and the islanders had
built up a small cache of coins that could be used at some point on the
neighbouring isles. Though there were no shops or commerce of any kind
here, over on Lewis, Harris and North Uist – some thirty-eight miles distant
– there were markets, stores and farmers willing to trade, especially given
that the landlord’s factor was so intransigent on his punishing terms.
‘Flora, quick now,’ her mother Christina said, rushing back into the
kitchen with a flustered look. ‘Give me that pail, they’re almost here.’
Flora sat back on her heels and saw her mother holding out the broom.
‘How many of them are there?’ she sighed, getting to her feet and swapping
the bucket for the sweeping brush, knowing exactly what was to be done.
‘Eight or nine, Old Fin thinks, but you know how his counting is.’
Flora moved past her mother and stood in the doorway, glancing down
the wide grassy path towards the approaching party. Six people.
‘Eeesht,’ Christina tutted, reaching for the brush and trying to smooth the
thick black braid that hung down Flora’s back; she had taken little care with
it this morning and fine wisps sprouted from her hairline. ‘And, look,
you’ve soot all over y’ face.’ Her mother reached up to smooth it away but
appeared to succeed only in smudging it across her cheek. ‘Och!’
‘Not now, Ma,’ Flora said under her breath. ‘They’re almost here.’
Her mother fell back into the shadows as Flora began to sweep the flat
rock that served as their front doorstep. Her younger siblings were at their
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